


Day 4: Carnival

by WatermelonTuesdays



Series: Sheith Monster Fuckers 2019 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (kinda), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Carnival, Chest Groping, Drunk Sex, Explicit Consent, Keith is living his best life, M/M, Masks, Mild Voyeurism, Minotaur - Freeform, Public Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Top Shiro (Voltron), Voyeurism, but said with an accent 'car-NI-val', semi-drunk sex, that tag already exists guys, think Hunchback of Notre Dame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 02:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20884664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatermelonTuesdays/pseuds/WatermelonTuesdays
Summary: Keith drunkenly stumbles around Carnival until he stumbles into tall, dark, and ugly: Shiro in a grotesque minotaur mask.





	Day 4: Carnival

Once a year, after the harvest moon, when all the crops have been reaped for the coming winter, Altea celebrates the Carnival. It is a day where laws are ignored, and societal norms are turned on their heads. A day where the ugly are beautiful and the beautiful are hideous. A day where anything goes, and the wine flows through the streets like rainwater. 

Stalls line the center market square, though they are largely unmanned as their shop-keeps find amusements for themselves away from their posts. Music pours down every street, each with a different style and tempo that adds to the cacophony of a hundred thousand voices, all screaming, laughing, singing, and speaking as one. 

At night, the streets fill with lanterns of every colour that bounce in the breeze and shine filtered, coloured lights down upon the partygoers. Children race, untamed, through adults’ legs, chasing animals (and animal-looking people), and stealing every snack they can get their little hands on. The adults move much slower, stopping frequently to talk and sing, or get messily acquainted in the many nooks and crannies of the city. 

Masks and disguises are the fashion of the day. During Carnival, everyone is someone, and yet no one is anyone.

Though Keith is hardly one for crowds, Carnival is different. There’s something about letting go of all inhibitions, something about a mask and a change of outfit and acting as you like without fear of censure or reprimand that tempts him out of his house for the night. Of course, the bottle and a half of wine running through his veins helps fortify him against the masses. 

Keith teeters and totters this way and that between the stalls.

He’s dressed in all reds. Reds upon reds. There’s simultaneously an abundance of fabric and not enough. He’s covered in sheer scarves of varying shades, edged in gold, that both highlight and conceal the natural curves of his body. His face is covered in a veil so that only his beguiling eyes are truly visible, and beneath it all he has only a few scraps of skin-tight linen over his chest and groin to complete his illusion of femininity. 

He knows he looks sexy, and for once he lets himself feel sexy as well. He feels it from the top of his dark black hair all the way down to the tips of his slipper-clad feet. 

He moves with the crowds, having given up on fighting the surge of bodies several hours before. This means that his journey has lots of starts, and stops, and twisting paths as he rides the tide of chaos. He thinks he must have circled the same little corner of the market about three times, caught in a loop, but he can’t be sure. Nothing looks as it normally does, and everything and everyone moves so fast he can’t keep track. 

All he knows is that his ass has been pinched any number of times by men and women alike and that there’s a paper-plaster fish at the top of one stall that he now associates with a particularly sharp pinch. 

Someone tall and thin stoops to speak in Keith’s ear, and Keith happily lets the man reel him in from the turbulent waters of the crowd. He leans against the large stranger to hear his offer. The man holds Keith possessively, with a hand over his hips, fingers digging into Keith’s ass, and it’s nice. But he can’t quite hear what the man says, and after having him repeat it three times, Keith changes his mind about the whole endeavour.

With an easy push, he sends himself back into the current of people and finds himself swept away within an instant, the tall stranger already fading into distant memory. 

When Keith next surfaces from the crowd he exits with a twirl that lands him solidly against the chest of someone large. At first, the only thing Keith sees is the wide expanse of naked chest before his eyes. He does exactly what anyone else would do in this situation and gently rests a hand over each of the man’s incredible pecs, just holding them there as if ensuring it’s all in working order.

“Oh. Hello,” the man says. His voice is muffled by a mask yet still manages to sound kind and warm. 

It takes a moment for Keith to draw his attention upwards from the firm, scar-marked chest. The man’s face is entirely covered by a grotesque mask; it would be an absolute shame if the mask weren’t so well made. It’s a minotaur mask, and it’s perfectly apropos considering the man’s height, physique, and wild array of scars. The bull face is made of actual fur (it could be an actual taxidermized bull’s head, but Keith is to drunk to tell); its mouth is gaped open in a shocked expression that’s made all the more eerie by its dead, glass eyes. It’s absolutely hideous.

“You must be beautiful,” Keith says, forgoing any greeting in order to get to the heart of the matter. 

The man laughs easily. He doesn’t remove Keith’s hands, so Keith takes it as invitation to knead the muscles gently under his fingers. “What makes you say that?” the man asks.

And Keith is so glad he asked. “Your mask is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, so you must be atrociously gorgeous.”

“Atrociously, huh?” he asks. 

Just then a woman knocks against Keith and for a brief moment he thinks he’s about to be lost to the crowd again, but the minotaur man is quick to secure him with a hand around Keith’s waist, settling low on his back. Keith hums a soft purr and tucks himself closer against the warm body before him. Idly, his searching fingers move to trace the lines of the minotaur’s abdomen. 

“You’re disgustingly beautiful, and you know it.”

The man laughs again and his fingers find a sliver of bare skin beneath Keith’s scarves to rub gently back and forth. “Do you know me?”

Keith shakes his head. “No, I just know from your mask. Everyone’s dressed up like someone they’re not, and you’re dressed like someone ugly.” He shrugs and lets the minotaur connect the last few dots himself, finding himself suddenly preoccupied with running the palms of his hands over the man’s collarbone and shoulders. They’re very good shoulders.

“What does that mean for you?” The man takes a half step back and pulls Keith along in his wake. He holds Keith even closer so that their thighs touch and Keith can rest his cheek against the man’s arm. “Because I think you might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and if you tell me you’re ugly in the light of day, I don’t think I can believe you.”

“Charmer,” Keith teases, slapping the man playfully against the arm before wrapping his fingers around the hard muscle and testing its give. “My beauty isn’t what I’m oppositing today.”

“Oppositing,” the man echoes with another laugh. He pulls Keith a little further away from the moving crowds. He tilts his head, and Keith can almost make out the man’s eyes through the mouth of the mask. If he squinted, he could probably tell the colour, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to leave this just as it is: a pleasant encounter with a minotaur. 

“I’m Taka-”

“Shhh,” Keith stops him with a finger over the mouth of the mask. He bends backwards, arching over the man’s hold on his waist so that they are pelvis to pelvis. It sends Keith’s pulse racing low in his body, but also gives Keith the opportunity to make direct eye contact through the opening in the mask. “No names tonight. It’s Carnival.”

“Shiro, then.”

Keith smiles, and runs his fingers over Shiro’s rippled skin. “Ok, Shiro.”

There’s a glint of teeth in a wide smile, and then that large hand on Keith’s waist pulls him farther back. They settle in a tight spot between two merchant booths. It’s far from private, and Keith is sure there must be some lingering eyes on them; but that’s the beauty of Carnival – it doesn’t matter. 

Keith drops his hands slowly down Shiro’s arms and moves them under the shifting scarves to palm at the curves of his ass, giving Shiro permission to do as he likes. Then Keith lifts his veil just enough to press his mouth to Shiro’s chest and let his lips do the exploring his fingers left behind.

His thigh slots between Shiro’s thick legs and he can feel Shiro’s temperature rise at the contact. Shiro’s big hands burrow deeper into Keith’s scarves and pull Keith up until he’s riding Shiro’s leg. Keith rocks his body against Shiro’s, feeling the growing firmness of Shiro’s erection against his leg, and grinding his own hardness against Shiro’s midriff. 

Shiro moans a hissing noise that sounds like “yesss,” but is too muffled by the mask to be distinct. His hand comes around and grasps Keith’s cock firmly, digging in with the heel of his hand. It makes Keith moan, long and low, and he bites the side of Shiro’s pec to keep from getting louder. 

“So, this is your surprise,” Shiro says, and his other hand buries further into the scarves until he is running a slow finger over Keith’s pert asshole. “I’m glad,” he lowers his head so that the minotaur’s mouth cover’s Keith’s ear and he can speak low and teasing, “for a minute I thought I was attracted to my first womanl, you’re so beautiful.”

Keith has no response, but Shiro doesn’t seem to expect one as he coordinates both hands until Keith is rocking between them. 

“Do you like this, sweetheart?” Shiro’s breath sounds ragged through the mouth of the mask as he speaks. “Are you going to let me fuck you?”

Well, if that isn’t the best idea Keith’s ever heard. “Do it. Fuck me,” Keith agrees. He tries to clamber higher into Shiro’s lap, practically clawing at the mountainous man in his desperation.

A rabid noise comes from behind the mask, as if the minotaur itself is groaning in frustration. Shiro leans back further and reaches past the thin wooden walls of the market stall. There’s a young man behind on the other side, selling foods and drinks. Shiro taps him soundly on the shoulder and drops some money in his hand.

“Your oil.” His voice is so commanding, the man rushes to obey. 

A few minutes later, Keith is rolling back onto a slicked digit and keening at the stretch. One hand grips over Shiro’s perfect, muscular breast, while the other is occupied within Shiro’s pants; Keith alternates between pulling and rubbing Shiro’s hard length, offering mute encouragement for the beautiful man to stretch him quickly. 

Shiro takes the hint, and soon enough he replaces Keith’s hand with his own to slick himself up with oil. 

Keith grips wide shoulders as he is lifted easily and dropped smoothly onto Shiro’s hard cock. He gasps at the final stretch and muffles the rest of his sounds by biting at Shiro’s shoulders. The hair of the minotaur mask tickles at Keith’s cheek and nose. 

They must make quite the pair. The wisps of Keith’s ensemble do nothing to hide their coupling, and they’re by no means hidden from the massive crowds of Carnival. Plus, Shiro attracts attention, looking large and unearthly with his bare chest and mask. The noises they make, though easily lost in the din of the crowd, are loud enough to draw the attention of passersby, and more than one slows their stride to watch the pair. 

Not that Keith is thinking anything so coherent as what they must look like to the strangers around them. Keith is focused solely on the penetration, and the feeling of smooth, warm skin beneath his hands. Shiro is sculpted from something more beautiful than human flesh, something that easily tricks Keith’s mind into accepting that he’s somehow mythical. 

He’s something wild.

Untamed.

He is the minotaur.

“Fuck!” Keith gasps, wrapping his legs tighter and arching his back to change Shiro’s angle of attack. “Yes! That’s it!” 

The grip holding Keith up and steady tightens; immediately, everything grows exponentially more intense, though Shiro doesn’t pick up any speed. His breath is ragged and panting through the mask, and Keith’s is punctuated with soft sighs and moans as he holds on for dear life. 

Keith doesn’t keep track of who comes first, but soon after they are both sweating and satiated in each other’s arms. 

Shiro sets Keith back down on his feet soon after, and Keith gives Shiro’s chest a parting squeeze before he steps back. He trails his fingers down Shiro’s arm as he steps away.

On a sudden impulse, Keith pitches himself back into Shiro’s arm, his fingers digging under the lip of the mask and lifting it just enough for Keith to smash his face against Shiro’s in a passionate (and only mildly painful) kiss. Then he steps away and is swept away on the crowd without another backwards glance, leaving Shiro alone to lift of his mask and press a light touch to his lips. 

Shiro can’t help the smile that graces his lips before he slips the mask back on and dives in the crowd, looking for a flash of red and a glimmer of star-blue eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> In a perfect world: Shiro hunts Keith for the rest of the night. Keith catches on fairly quick, and leads Shiro on a wild goose chase, ducking behind carts and always staying just out of reach. They chase each other until sunrise, when Keith finally allows himself to be caught, standing on the back stoop of his own home. He pulls Shiro in through the door, and the rest is history. 
> 
> In an un-perfect world: They have that one perfect encounter as strangers and never see each other again.
> 
> I don't have much to say here. Your guys' comments on these fics have been giving me LIFE! I love them! Thank you so much for the support.
> 
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